


paradoxical

by orphan_account



Series: a study in contradictions [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Study, M/M, POV Second Person, but i mostly wrote it to try to like get a feel for the characters??, have mercy ive only watched the musical so most of my knowledge is that and other peoples fics, this doesnt have any like plot, this is like an introductory story to a longer one im planning so, u cant tell from reading just this but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 08:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: he is a living, breathing paradox. you love him.





	paradoxical

**Author's Note:**

> most of this is from the musical and what ive read from other fics, as i sadly dont have the books. im trying to get a feel for these two so please bear with me! this is also my first time writing in second person, so this is a pretty experimental piece

he has the capacity for cruelty. you know this very well, have even seen glimpses of it in his famous temper. but he is overall kind, refusing to return to the world the hurt it dealt him. you do not think he does it intentionally. you think, despite how much he states the opposite, that he truly is a good man. that he hides it beneath layers upon layers of anger and bitter cynicism and sharp rejoinders exchanged in otherwise quiet moments.

you think he is a good man, but you also sometimes find it hard to think of him as a man. he certainly is, not much younger than you agewise, but there are moments where he acts so painfully, heartbreakingly young. he is a genius, to be sure, the smartest man you’ve ever known. he composes songs that move people to tears, combining notes in a powerful shockwave of sound that leaves his listeners reeling. he designs buildings, ones that will likely never be built but that he pours his very soul into nonetheless. he reads more books in a month than you will ever read in a year. he has such a wide base of knowledge from which he can pull.

and yet, he knows nothing of his own heart. he could speak for hours on the nuances of musical form but falters at even the implication of an emotionally charged conversation. he has a truly absurd amount of useless information at his disposal, but has no idea how to talk to other people. even now, he struggles to have meaningful conversations with you, struggles to give himself to you as completely as you have given yourself to him. he is so afraid of doing or saying something wrong, of losing you.

he is starved for physical affection. you know no one in his life before you has touched him with kindness. that no one has touched him at all unless it was with closed fists or open palms aiming to bruise, to hurt. you ache to think of how much he has been hurt, and you know he craves like no other a gentle touch, for someone to hold him, protect him instead of damage. you long to give him everything he desires and more. you long to give him everything, and yet.

he still trembles at your touch. his hands still shake when you hold them and press kisses to his scarred knuckles. he still looks at you in awe when you pull him close at night, conflict warring in his eyes as if he cannot decide whether to burrow himself in your arms or run out of the room. he still breaks down in tears whenever you cup his face, unable to comprehend that he is capable of being loved and accepted, that _all_ of him will forever be loved and accepted by you. it breaks your heart that he still finds it necessary to wear his mask around you. as if he does not wish to press his luck. as if you will one day change your mind and leave him behind for something as miniscule as a pretty face.

you tell him he is beautiful. he gets angry, accuses you of lying. you wish this man, who so appreciates the beauty of the world, could see the beauty of himself. you tell him you love him. you do not think he believes you yet. but that’s okay. you will gladly spend the rest of your life convincing him.


End file.
